


A Birthday Bath

by Abradystrix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23026819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abradystrix/pseuds/Abradystrix
Summary: Hermione is late. Ron relaxes.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	A Birthday Bath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hillnerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillnerd/gifts).



> Inspired by this amazing artwork by @hillyminne: if you haven’t already backed her on Patreon, I thoroughly recommend it, especially if you enjoy spectacular fan art and/or bearded!Ron. (Spoiler: I do.)
> 
> Please consider this a very much belated 40th birthday tribute to the man himself.

The door to the flat slams shut behind her, and she sees a blur of ginger fur dart across the hallway, startled by her sudden arrival. She stumbles a little as she kicks off her shoes and haphazardly tosses her cloak into the cupboard.

It is 8.04pm on March the 1st and Hermione Granger is frazzled.

'It's me! I'm so sorry Ron, I...'

She stops short as she enters the living room, expecting to see a recalcitrant and fuming Ron waiting for her. Instead, Crookshanks peers out at her from beneath the sofa, which is neatly arranged. A copy of the Daily Prophet sits atop the low-slung coffee table, where some candles burn lazily, casting a warm glow over the room. Soft Muggle music plays on the wireless.

'In here!'

She follows the sound of his voice to the bathroom. Opening the door, she is overwhelmed by the heady scent of mint and lavender, carried on a thick cloud of steam. Ron grins up at her from the bathtub, his body submerged in unctuous bubbles that glisten in every colour of the rainbow. She pulls the door behind her and sits down on the edge of the bath, somewhere between amused, perplexed, frustrated and exhausted.

He sits up to talk to her, water sloshing over the sides. Their flat is a somewhat ramshackle attic space, but one of the features they both love the best is the ancient bath tub, claw-footed and big enough for two, right under two wooden beams. Granted, the bathroom itself is so small that the tub takes up most of the space, with the loo right alongside. Hermione notices that on a small table by the other end of the bath, Ron has opened a bottle of red wine, one glass full and the other half-drunk.

'Hello,' he says, beaming.

'Er... hello,' she says, suddenly aware of how messy her hair is, and her rather plain work outfit. This evening has not gone to plan at all. She catches sight of the clock on the wall and panics further.

'Ron, we're due at the restaurant in ten minutes - I'm so so sorry, the stupid meeting ran over and the deputy Minister was being just intolerable, honestly, but I'm here now, and it's your birthday and we have to Apparate and...' she finds her voice straining, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. 'I think I've really bollocksed this up. I'm so sorry Ron.'

He reaches out a soapy hand to grab hers.

'Hermione, I cancelled the reservation as soon as I got your Patronus. It's okay. I've had a shitter of a day anyway, and I'm really just glad you're here.' He squeezes her hand, a small puddle of bubbles forming on her thigh, soaking into the woollen skirt.

'But... it's your birthday!' Wailing, she throws her head up to the ceiling. 'It was supposed to be perfect and I...'

'Hermione.' She can't bring herself to look at him, terrified of the disappointment that she's bound to see.

'Hermione, look at me.'

She does, her cheeks flushed in the steam of the room. Her breath catches as the appreciates for the first time since she entered the room just how handsome Ron looks, his beard a little wild, his eyes gleaming and his gaze focussed entirely on her.

'It's ok. Really, _really_ ok. I only got home about an hour ago, and there's some takeaway in the oven, keeping warm.'

She sniffs, still frowning.

'It's not much of a birthday is it?' She casts her eyes downward, expression solemn. 'I wanted to treat you.'

'I cannot think of a better treat in the bloody world than for you to come and join me in the bath Hermione. I think it would be the best birthday ever, to be quite honest.'

She laughs a little. 'Well, it wouldn't be the worst.'

'Definitely not. I'm conscious, for a start.'

'I could Floo Romilda you know, she works in the department down the hall from me now...'

'Hush, woman. Get in here.'

She sheds her clothes quickly, and clambers in, pausing to kiss him deeply on the mouth, before letting out a deep sigh and leaning back against his chest. For a moment, they just lie there, and Hermione feels the stress of the day start to dissipate against the steady rise and fall of Ron's chest on her back. She twists, reaching for the wine, and they gently touch their glasses together.

'Happy birthday Ron,' she whispers, taking a sip of wine.

'Thanks, beautiful.'

'Oh shut up, I look awful. It's blowing a gale out there, and my hair isn't cooperating.'

'You look perfect,' he says softly, kissing her neck. They sit quietly for a moment, in companionable silence, punctuated only by the lapping of the water and the soft croon of the wireless.

'So... two crap days between the two of us then?' Hermione asks, smiling softly.

'Yep. Morning training was an absolute bastard, and the afternoon mission was an utter waste of time. Popped round the Burrow after though...'

She sits up suddenly, wine spilling from her glass. 'Oh Merlin, the cake! I was supposed to get it to the restaurant...'

Ron sets their wine to the side, and guides her back to sitting, rubbing her shoulders gently. 'Stop worrying Hermione - Mum had packaged it up anyway, and she sends her love. Anyway, then it was about 7 so I just Floo'ed home, spent some time with the other love of my life...'

'Harry?'

'Crookshanks, but don't tell either of them that. And then I realised what I wanted most in the world, which was a bath with you.'

'Crookshanks wouldn't join you, I'm guessing. Or Harry.'

'No. Fickle bastards, the pair of them.'

She laughs, raising her legs out of the water to rest on the tub, the final clutch of stress leaving her body. She turns to look at him, smiling down at her. They're both laughing now.

'I really am sorry,' she says, after a moment.

'Hermione, I learned a long time ago that if you can be here, you will be, and if you can't - well, then there's a really good bloody reason,' he says, pushing some damp hair from her forehead.

'When did you become so wise?'

'Must be you rubbing off on me,' he grins, raising an eyebrow. She swats at him, laughing despite herself, the warm glow of the wine, the bath and his presence lifting her spirits.

'I love you Ron. More than anything.'

'More than the House Elf Legislative Act of 2001?' He deadpans, ears reddening.

'So much more.' She notices that he breathes a little quicker, looking at the fire in her eyes. 'You know that, don't you?'

'I reckon I do, yeah,' he brushes his lips to hers, and she can feel his heart beating. She doesn't know if she'll ever get tired of the wonder that is Ron Weasley.

So often their moments of intimacy linger in a delicate balance: on the one side, playful bickering, their laughter; the other, a quiet, fierce slow burn, driven by want and need. In a heartbeat, Hermione can feel the scales tipping from one to the other. 

Turning to face him, she grasps his face and pulls him to her, murmuring his name the way she knows he likes, whispering the things she knows he wants, and kissing him til the candles have all burned out.


End file.
